sylvia in her flight II: I am not bored.

I am not angry.
I am not angry at you for your dismissal nor him for his disapproval
I am not angry
not at a world
nor a society
not at books that disappoints
not at a stifled pen.
I am only brored.
I am not sad.
not at all
and sulking in bathtubs
smudged with the ashes
of over grown cigarets
is not a sadness
not my sadness manifesting its self.
when I read your and her
and his and their
and all of you
ALL of your
poetry
and I tear
then cry
then weep
then clutter
then end.
I am not sad
I am just bored.
when I leap
off
offf
offff
when I am pushed ever so gently
by an oncoming wind
that burnes my very loins
and catalysis my blood flow
and end and danger cluster my mind
and my skull makes
the most melodic
poetic
 sound
against an old stale pavement
I am not bored
not in the slightest sense.

author note:
here is the first sylvia in her flight:
http://mybrushandpen.blogspot.com/2011/11/sylvia-in-her-flight.html